


Dolce Vita

by bronwins



Category: The Sopranos
Genre: Extramarital Affairs, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronwins/pseuds/bronwins
Summary: "But he smirks at her over his shoulder, door already half open, and says, just as bright as anything, "Take care of yourself, Doc." She melts. Tony Fucking Soprano."Or: A series of (very short) vignettes wherein Tony and Jennifer Melfi stumble their way into something close to love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing; HBO owns everything.
> 
> Man, did I forget how much I loved The Sopranos.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get thermostat fixed.

Their first time, nothing is in her mind save for the temperature of the office.  _Get thermostat fixed_ is added to Dr. Jennifer Melfi's ever-growing mental list of to-do's, right before he nearly smothers her with a kiss.  _Get thermostat fixed_ skates across her thoughts as he eases her out of her skirt, alarmingly gentle, and drops off as the darkness (as he) swallows her brain whole.

She turns away as they dress; tries to prod herself into revulsion. But he smirks at her over his shoulder, door already half open, and says, just as bright as anything, "Take care of yourself, Doc." She melts. Tony Fucking Soprano.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer, maybe, is not great at dating.

Many months later: Jennifer Melfi is on an uneventful date with a man whose name she has forgotten (is it Peter or Paul? There is no way to tell). Peter Or Paul works in finance, she thinks, or maybe advertising. One of those uninteresting, uneventful careers that keeps kids fed and parents in just-short-of-designer livery. Peter Or Paul drives a cherry red Audi A8. Peter Or Paul isn't drinking right now, thanks, because he just quit smoking and one makes him crave the other.

She thinks of Tony, who always smells just a little like tobacco and scotch, picks a little at a hangnail under the table. Tony, who drives that monstrous Escalade; Tony, who looks like he could eat Peter Or Paul for breakfast. She hates Tony. She misses Tony.

"Hey! Doc!"

She fucking  _hates_ Tony.

"Jennifer?" Peter Or Paul's smile is just a little wobbly when she meets his gaze; when she tears her eyes from her glass of Chianti. "Someone's calling you, I think."

"Yeah," Tony Fucking Soprano, all six feet, 230 pounds, bounds toward her like a puppy dog. "I can see that." Carmela, following just a dozen feet away, looks unbearably hurt, dripping in silver and gold sequins, and there's a large part of her that really does want to send him away, to turn a cold, unfeeling shoulder and finish her bland veal.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

He stares at her, mouth twisted into an ugly, odd little smile, and she has to grind her teeth to keep from screaming.

"Not at all," says Peter Or Paul, completely oblivious and grinning. "I'm so sorry, who are you?"

"Tony Soprano." He sits at their table without asking, and waves his hand at the nearest waiter. As Carmela, humiliated, seats herself beside Jennifer, she catches just a whiff of his cigars.

Tony _Fucking_ Soprano.

* * *

That night: Peter Or Paul fucks in a way that she thinks he would call lovemaking.

"Harder," she mumbles. "Christ, harder."

Peter Or Paul storms out half an hour later, underpants on backward, after she says the wrong name when she comes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car sex goes better (and perhaps worse) than expected.

The third time, maybe, or the fourth is the first time in his car. She's worried about the profound unsexiness of back seat sex, but if he is, it doesn't show. Tony is good at kissing her breathless; is good at making her feel like she's the only fucking woman in the world, and from the moment she slides across the leather seat, that's just what he does.

"Jesus Christ, you're beautiful." She has to fist her hands to keep her breath from stumbling.

Somewhere between losing her glasses in the seat cushion and nibbling a line up his neck, he makes a perfectly round moan sound that she did not believe he was capable of. They come together not long afterward with a good deal more noise than that, but she won't forget that sound for as long as she lives.  Tony _Fucking_ Soprano made a noise that she remembers her high school boyfriend making the first time she sucked him off. If that's not worth remembering, what is?

She's seized, as she slides down on him, with the urge to tell him that he'll be alright; that everything will be alright.  Even if she doesn't believe it.

"Shit, fuck," he's barely breathing, gripping her hips like she's the only thing holding him to earth, and her heart nearly breaks. "You're so _fuckin_ ' beautiful."

When he drops her off at her apartment complex, he kisses her cheek. And then, as though realizing they have committed some unmentionable sin, they exchange horrified glances and she bundles herself off into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This may be getting out of hand.

At some point, she loses track of how many times over they've destroyed their doctor-patient relationship. In his sessions, he still talks about Carmela and the  _goomahs_ , but now he locks the door and she makes sure that he's always her last appointment of the day.

Just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who didn't already figure it out, "Dolce Vita" means "Sweet Life."


End file.
